Last Straw

What finally burst our sack of sorrows, was it tugs from past, or sad tomorrows? Did it rot inside from pain and lies, or did our baggage stretch beyond its size? Was one more crisis all it took to pop it open like a book? If we simply forgot to double bag that indeed would be a great big drag The mess that lies now on the ground perhaps, we still could've carried round But in the end, the question's moot; for in this life, all deeds bear fruit So, it doesn't matter who's to blame when we both know, that it's a shame